A Favor
by Jestana
Summary: Minerva decides to have a little talk with Harry doesn't go as well as she would have liked. COMPLETE


**A Favor**

_A/N:_ Here it is, my fiftieth fic on FF.Net! I wanted to do a piece where Minerva talks to Harry and this is what came out. Many thanks to Thestral Dea for helping me with Harry.

I have been watching Albus sink deeper and deeper into the pit of despair and self-loathing. The twinkle in his eyes seems to have disappeared completely. Nothing I do or say seems to help him. I have tried everything. Everything, that is, except bring him face to face with the cause. That is why I am once again in front of Number 4, Privet Drive in Little Whinging, Surrey. I have been here before: fifteen years ago, I watched Albus put Harry Potter into the care of his relatives, the Dursleys. I had my misgivings about it then and I still have them now.

That is not why I am here, however. I make my way up the front walk, using the cane the Healers have insisted that I need to use. I knocked briskly three times on the front door and wait. Two minutes later, Petunia Dursley opened the door. "Yes?"

"I am Professor McGonagall." I keep my words brisk and brief, well aware of how much these Muggles despise anything and everything connected with the wizarding world. "I would like to see Harry Potter, please."

She glared at me. "Harry Potter doesn't live here."

"Indeed?" I asked, raising an eyebrow and deciding a little bluffing was in order. "I can tell if you are lying."

She paled visibly and stepped back. "You'd best come in."

"Thank you." I entered the house and looked around with some curiosity. Clean and neat, plenty of family portraits of the Dursleys, but none including Harry (this did not surprise me). "Where is Mr. Potter?"

"Just a moment." I watched as she disappeared up the stairs.

I waited calmly in the living room, forcing myself to remain still. I am not, by nature, a patient woman, but I have learned over the years how to hide my impatience and keeping still is one of those ways. After a few moments, I heard footsteps on the stairs and turned to see Harry Potter descending them. His head, topped with the mop of unruly black hair, was bowed and his shoulders were drooping, as if under a great weight. I could not imagine what his emotions were, but I was determined to do something to lift his shoulders. Coming into the living room, he finally lifted his head and his eyes, the same emerald green as Lily's, widened when he saw me. "Professor McGonagall?"

"Did she not tell you who wished to see you?" I asked him, guessing the answer already.

He shook his head, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans, his eyes never leaving mine. "No, she just said someone was here to see me."

"I see," I commented thoughtfully, trying to decide how to proceed.

Harry's voice interrupted my thoughts before I could make a decision. "Er, Professor, why are you here? Is time for me to leave?" He asked, his eyes holding traces of hope.

"I am sorry, Mr. Potter, but not yet." I hated to disappoint him. "Shall we go for a walk?"

The news that he needed to stay with the Dursleys a little longer seemed to depress him further, his shoulders barely sagging, though his eyes barely brightened when I suggested a walk. "Sure!"

"Shall we then?" I led the way to the door.

We walked in silence until we reached a small park nearby. Finally, seating himself on one of the unbroken swings, he asked, "Why have you come to see me, Professor? How much longer will I need to stay with the Dursleys? Where will I go when I leave?"

"One question at a time, Mr. Potter." I stopped the flow of questions.

He fell silent, sighing as he lowered his gaze to the ground. "I'm sorry, Professor."

"There is no need to apologize," I assured him, sitting down in the other unbroken swing. "I am not sure exactly how much longer you will need to stay, but I am sure you will be leaving before your birthday at the end of the month."

If I had not been watching him so closely, I would not have seen his shoulders move in a silent sigh. "All right. Why are you here, then?"

"I am here as a favor to a friend, Mr. Potter," I told him, reflecting that the way he carried himself was similar to the way Albus had been carrying himself since my return from St. Mungo's.

The boy looked up at me curiously. "A favor to a friend? Who?"

"Professor Dumbledore." I stated my husband's name quietly and calmly, watching the boy's face carefully.

Harry's face was a scramble of emotions in that brief space of time. His eyes flashed with the pain and anger that he must have felt since his and Albus' last meeting. He lowered his eyes and the movement of his lips betrayed a haunted expression for a brief moment before he looked back at me, this time masking his anger and pain with forced neutrality and vague concern.

"What of him?" Harry asked, his voice steady.

Choosing my words carefully, I explained, "Professor Dumbledore has been a symbol of good for the wizarding world since he defeated Grindelwald fifty years ago. However, no matter how highly people think of him, he is not infallible, nor is he a god. He is a fallible human being, like you or I. He makes mistakes just like we would. Sometimes, though, he punishes himself unnecessarily for those mistakes."

"Why are you telling me this, Professor?" Harry's voice was wary, as if he expected me to start scolding him or dressing him down.

I sighed. "He cannot forgive himself until you have forgiven him, Mr. Potter."

He stared at me for a long while, a whirl of emotions wreaking havoc inside him. I could see it, behind those green eyes that were so reminiscent of Lily's. As if realizing that I could see this, he looked away from me, to the ground, his lips tight together. "I don't know what you mean, Professor."

"Oh, yes, you do," I countered. "You just have no desire to admit it."

Harry turned his head, gazing at me long and hard with those green eyes, before he rose and gazed off, though I doubt he was taking in what was before him. "With all due respect, Professor, the only thing I hadn't wanted to admit was how much I have come to rely and depend on him."

I opened my mouth to say something but he had turned back to me, holding up a hand to stop whatever it was that I had been about to say.

"I had come to realize that I needed his presence more than anything, and suddenly I was slapped in the face with his total removal from my life." He stopped me from speaking once more; with that firm take charge expression of his. "No, before you say anything, please listen. I understand why that was so. I wish I didn't, but I do. I cannot deny however, that because I did not have the luxury of his advice or his presence, my godfather, my only link to my parents... my only family is dead because of me." Harry finished, his eyes a vivid electrical storm, the green bright and suffused with light.

I bowed my head, a wave of guilt crashing over me at his words. "I do not deny that, had he been there, you probably would not have gone to the Ministry. However," I looked up at him, "you are not solely responsible. If I had not been so foolish as to rush out onto the grounds when Dolores tried to sack Hagrid, I would have been there for you to turn to." I sighed softly. "It does us no good to look at 'what ifs', 'might haves', and 'maybes', Lad. They will not bring him back. Magic can do many things, but conquering death is not one of them."

Rising carefully, I touched his shoulder, half-expecting him to pull away. "I do not know what the prophecy says exactly, but I _do_ know that you will need his help to do what you must."

He was apparently surprised with my action, for he shifted so that my hand was no longer on his shoulder, but he didn't necessarily step away. "Professor, the 'what ifs' and 'might haves' are all that I have," he told me plainly, with a look that I would only have expected from Albus, which truly surprised me. I admit, I didn't know all that he'd suffered, and what it was truly like living with the Dursleys, or any of the other details that Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger maybe did know.

"My parents died for me, Cedric died because of me, Sirius died because of ME! I may need help from him or from anyone who'll give it, but in the end, my path is set. I cannot risk anyone else. Everywhere I turn, someone is hurt because of me..." his voice broke just barely, as he turned, his fists clenched tightly at his sides.

I was silent for a few moments, considering my next words. "Mr. Potter, has it occurred to you that your friends will refuse to let you pull away from them? In fact, your friends may be what you need most." My voice became sharper as I added. "Brooding over what has happened will do you no good. What's done is done. You can do nothing to change it. You _must_ put it behind you and go forward." I did not want to be so harsh with him, but I had no choice.

"It has occurred to me, but I would rather not risk their lives. They will understand, they'll have to." Was the boy's reply as he turned away from me, his voice holding a trace of flinty determination. "You're right, Professor, what is done is done and there is nothing whatsoever I can do about it, no matter how much it tears me apart, but there is one thing I can do: that is to prevent it from happening again, at all costs."

"They will understand, yes, but I have seen what the power of friendship can do." I sighed. He was so stubborn! "Yes, you can do that, but are you ready to isolate yourself from your friends? From the people you care about? Can you do that?"

He sighed aloud, apparently at odds with himself, with what he was trying to do, my words not exactly helping him. "I can if that is what will keep everyone safe. Professor, I wonder if you've heard of that expression, of choosing the lesser of two evils, that is what I am trying to do."

"I have heard it, Lad," I admitted before smiling slightly. "You are very stubborn, did you know that, Mr. Potter?"

"Yes, Professor, I have heard tell that I am quite stubborn, actually," came his reply.

My smile widened a bit before fading. "I did not come here to tell you what you must do, but to ask you to consider the fact that you need Albus Dumbledore's help and he needs your forgiveness." I glanced up at the sky; it was getting late. "Perhaps it is time to return to the house."

He didn't say a word as we returned to the house and I Disillusioned myself before taking up my post in front of the house. I'd done what I could, but it was up to Harry to take the next step.


End file.
